Jul 10 2009

This is a Succubus Costume?

It’s been a little while since the last Succubus costume I have blogged over…

Mebby I should have waited longer after seeing this one…


I really don’t know exactly how to describe it, or more importantly, how I can possibly fix it into something more Succubish…

You get with this a three-piece devil costume which includes wire bra, skirt and horns. The rest of it is of course extra stuff that you have to add to the outfit…

Oh, and they suggest 6 inch stripper heels with this outfit…

So, first thing that just has to go is all of that stringy stuff hanging down from the mini-skirt. What is the point of that anyway? All that does is make the outfit look more… Rough? Unfinished? Something like that…

The ribbons hanging from her horns also have to go. Cheap looking and I have no doubt that they are a pain as they swisch into your eyes as you walk along…

Shoes? Not liking them a lot. I suppose red glitter heels would be a better match with the shirt and bra top, but that alone wouldn’t save this…

And speaking of the bra top…

I hope that whomever buys this outfit has stickies on otherwise, she’ll prolly have the infamous “wardrobe malfunction” happening I’ll bet…

Cost of this costume is $30 USD

It gets half a pitchfork out of 5…

No web link because I just can’t this time…


Jul 09 2009

Succubi Image of the Week 81

Something a little bit semi-animeish for this week’s Succubus…

Blackhorns by Unknown Artist

Now I think that there is a series of images with her floating around the net… This is certainly the fourth or fifth image of her that I have seen from the same artist, though I have no idea who that is…

Help as always is welcome!


Jul 08 2009

Possibly one of the best Succubi manips I have ever seen…

FreezeFrame discovered this image of a Succubus seducing her victim the other day and really…

This is just deliciously yummy…

Succubus Feeding Manip by Unknown Artist

No idea of the artist, but the overall look and feel of the Succubus is just perfect in soooo many ways…

I love the merging of her wings and body as it’s just about totally seamless and her coloring is just so artistically wonderful…

If anyone knows of more of this series, I’d love to know!


Jul 07 2009

Cinfully Sweet

Just popping away from posting Temptations for this week in order to post this RP between myself and Gasman of the Garden…

It’s not quite clear at the beginning what Sindy is, she is called Cindy at the beginning of the RP and if it had gone on long enough it would have changed over time to reflect that which she is… or should have been…

If you have access to the Hypno-Pics Collective, you can see the image of Sindy that started the idea of the RP in my folder in the RP Section there…


Cinfully Sweet

By TeraS and Gasman

On a road somewhere in the world a little quaint ice cream shack sits beside the road…

You’ve been driving now for hours, the road quiet as you drove, the only thing that seemed to catch your attention was the series of ice cream signs along the road that kept counting down the miles under your wheels until as you crested a hill, the shop that owned those signs peeked into view…

It’s been a long hot drive and the idea of an ice cream tugs at your mind and so you decide to take the time and make a stop…

You pull into the parking lot and see that the place has a sign on top of it that you can’t quite make out the name of due to the sun glinting off of it… It looks very clean. Well maintained and bright… Little pictures and metal signs of various ice cream treats… It’s obviously an ice cream shop isn’t it?

Taking the three steps to the front door you notice a little sign that says, Open 24/7. Just ring the bell on the way in!. You open the door and as you do, you hear a rattle of a bell above the door, but it doesn’t quite ring clearly within…

Looking inside you see a series of wooden chairs around several tables, a serving counter against the far wall, menus above it, A pair of coolers to your right with cold drinks, a slushie machine there as well churning away happily it seems…

It’s all very clean and comfortable looking and you feel like you are being invited to take that last step within and taste some of the treats within the walls…

As you enter the parlor, you notice a woman behind the ice cream counter fiddling with the items there and whistling a happy little tune…

As the door closes behind you, the bell above it tinkles again and she straightens up to see who has entered her shop today looking for something sweet…

She’s cute. Medium length blonde hair, warm blue eyes, full red lips and dressed in a red and white striped server’s outfit. She’s shapely with a touch of that small town charm that always is nice to see on the road.  With a cute little gasp she gives you a little wave to get your attention, if she didn’t have it already…

She smiles and twirls an ice cream scoop in her left hand as she says, “Hi! Welcome to Cinfully Sweet! My name is Cindy….”

A little toss of her hair and her blue eyes sparkle as she asks, “What can I get you?”

I’m a little surprised to find a quaint little place like this open 24/7. But something about it is charming, and the trip has been long, and will go longer still. So I scan the signs and admire the traditional decor, and the way everything seems both used and clean as new, and professional, yet simple. Even the counter-girl seems to fit the overall feel of the place, and as soon as she introduces herself, it becomes clear why. She’s likely the owner, hence the pun of the name.

Brushing some dust off my plain t-shirt and running fingers through my short brown hair, I shrug, unsure of what I’m in the mood for from a place like this. I really only stopped to get some air, but I should order something while I’m here, if only to keep from looking like a jerk.

“Uh, what would you recommend?”

Cindy tapped her right index finger against her lips and then said, “Well… My banana splits are very yummy… But maybe you’d like a ice cream float? Orrrrr…..”

With that thought, Cindy moved out from behind the counter and approached the coolers… As she came into full view, she revealed that she was wearing a pair of red slingback heels and that the outfit she was wearing ended quite obviously just about the midpoint of her thighs…

Moving past you, Cindy opened the nearer cooler and ducked her head inside, raising her right foot in the air and sort of dangling her heel in the air as she asked, “I suppose you are driving right? Most people do when they visit my place…”

The initial answer takes me a little by surprise. She comes off almost ditzy, but in that way you can usually write off as adorable, which seems strange for a business owner. But it is appropriate to the atmosphere and style of the place… Or so I thought…

The top half of her uniform is fairly innocuous, but the bottom half is more like a clubbing get-up. A miniskirt which shows off some admittedly very attractive, smooth legs, and the shoes add some height while accentuating the curves those legs contribute to. I can’t help but admire them for a second while she’s occupied with the cooler, and it takes me a sec to answer her question as a result.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Long trip, so I figured I’d stop for some air, something to eat or drink, y’know…”

Her foot was moving in sort of a lazy circle as she answered, “I suppose that’s better than walking in all that heat n stuff outside…. I can tell you something!”

Then she straightened up holding a bottle of some kind of soda in her left hand as she looked down and wiggled that left foot as she said, “Walking in that parking lot outside in these heels is a killer I can tell you… It’s a bunch easier inside that’s for sure!”

She looked at him for a moment and then said, “Something sweet alright or would you rather have something diet instead?”

Then she took the bottle and lowered it to her thigh, letting the moisture on the bottle drip onto her skin and then slowly begin to roll along the outside of her leg as she looked at him innocently and expectantly…

The parlor was living up to it’s name, as watching her leg and foot sway and wiggle as she rooted around in the cooler was certainly enjoyable in a slightly sinful manner, I must confess to myself. I smile slightly as her topic of conversation even allows me to look a little longer, my eyes looking at the shoes in question in order to show I’m listening.

“Oh, yeah, I can imagine… Especially in this weather. Why not wear something less… showy?” I offer, friendlily.

I start to look up, but the little bead of water, glistening on her silken thigh makes me hesitate for a second, before my eyes finally rise back to meet hers.

“Um, sweet’s fine with me” I nod

Cindy opened her mouth as if to answer and then got a rather confused look in her eyes as she said, “Actually I don’t know… I got up this morning and these were with the outfit… And it matches sooooo….”

She lost that confusion as she offered him the bottle in her hand and said, “It’s something new… Just onto the market a week or so ago?”

Looking at the bottle in his hand, he would see that the name of it was, !!!

And that was all there was on the bottle…

Cindy continued, “It’s supposed to be some sort of energy slash mind boosting drink or something you know? Wanna try that?”

The story about the rather inappropriate outfit tied in with the sweet ditz image I was starting to get of her, but it did make one wonder how she was able to run the place by herself, without losing receipts or forgetting to charge or something. I shook my head cheerfully and chalked it up to being the sort of thing that sometimes happens. Life doesn’t always obey logic, and people don’t always obey expectations.

With a similar shrug, I took the bottle and looked at the simple, but clear logo and frowned a little. I’d never seen the brand before, but I wasn’t exactly a local boy either, so maybe it was a small company’s big push into the larger market? It looked kinda nice, anyway.

“Heh. Those things don’t really work, but some of them do taste OK… Why not?” I smiled, and opened the bottle, taking a sip.

The drink would taste just the other side of sweet… Not unpleasant but certainly oddish…

Before you can take another sip of it, Cindy slipped her hand around the neck of the bottle and said, “For some reason the company says you are supposed ta share a bottle with someone…”

She raised the bottle to her lips and took a similar sip of it, her eyes going a little bit cross-eyed and then straightening out again before she said, “That’s an odd taste… Can’t quite place it really…”

She looked at the bottle as her eyebrows wiggled a bit and then added, “At least it tastes better than shoe polish…”

It was an unusual flavour, almost too sweet, but keeping from tipping over to being off-putting. And the light fizz offset it. It wasn’t something I’d stock up on, but for impulse buys, I’d regretted some far more. I was just about to see if the second opinion would concur when Cindy pulled the bottle to her lips, my hand still around the body of the drink.

“I don’t know if they mean that literally…” I try to explain, but she’s already downed a sip by the time I get it out, and she doesn’t seem to be listening anyway, “Uh, you OK?”

She seems to recover quickly though and renders a chripy verdict that causes my eyes to dip to both our feet in slight bewilderment at the odd metaphor.

“Well, that’s not saying much, though… I kinda liked it, actually..”

Cindy blinked once and then asked, “Kinda? Sort of like how you kinda like my shoes maybe?”

She hopped onto a table that was beside them and then raised both of her legs into the air a little and wiggled her toes as she said, “See… I like my shoes a bunch too… But maybe I need to polish up the shine on them a little or something? Or maybe change the colour? Oooo! Or how about I change them into a pair of red leather thigh-high boots?”

Then she blinked again and said, “Sorry… I am being such a ditz and zoning out aren’t I today?”

Her reaction forced a frown from my brow. I know some women have a thing about shoes, but this girl seemed to be taking this metaphor a little far. The thought was cemented as she jumped up and began waving and wiggling her feet towards me, as though asking for some kind of approval or affection.

The movement did part of it’s job, at least, and my attention was caught for a moment. In isolation from the rest of the outfit’s contradictions, the shoes were quite nice, from my limited knowledge,  and the colour was striking, while not seeming too dark or bright. They were a little scuffed from use, but otherwise…

“They’re pretty nice, I guess…”

…Wait, what had she just said? Leather boots? That came from nowhere…

My eyes jumped back up to her pretty face, framed with her bouncy blonde locks*

“Well, a little… where did that part about the boots come from?”

Cindy crossed her legs and then continued to speak as she dangled and twisted her right shoe in front of her, “Oh… You know… Some people like shoes and things like that a lot… I mean… A lot… Can’t you just see it though? Lovely red leather boots that creep up my legs and stop just before my skirt starts? Just showing a little teeny bit of skin there while all the rest is soft and supple leather? The aroma of it… The looks of it… Wouldn’t the heels on them just curve my legs just so?”

She leaned forward and took the bottle from his fingers to take a sip of it before offering it back to him with the question, “Wouldn’t that look so hot and yummy?”

I shrugged and nodded, conceding the point of other people’s likes and predilections. My eyes dropped again, the light reflecting off the shinier parts of her shoes catching my eyes in a way just this side of irritating. And of course, as a result, her hypothetical boots were easy to imagine. She had a point, her legs were the type that took to heels well, and her whole demeanour meant that the connotations, the scent of the leather and it’s soft sound would have even more allure than usual.

I took the proffered bottle and sipped the sweet drink. My eyes still lowered, and I’d be lying if I said all my mind was on the drink or fashion…

“Hmm? Uh, I’d imagine you’d look pretty hot.. er, good… daring, in something like that…”

Cindy wiggled a bit on the table where she sat and then said, “Well.. But what’s under the boots n stuff?”

She slipped her shoes off, letting them clunk to the store tile floor and then wiggling her toes a bit, “But you know underneath them are feet and toes…. You know? Like that song?”

In a sweet voice, Cindy tossed her hair from side to side a bit, “Head and shoulders… Knees and toes…. Knees and toes…” As she finished, she wiggled her toes a bit and then asked him, “I’ve been told that I’m the bee’s knees… What do you think about my toes? I tried some new nail polish on them today you know… Aren’t they nice and shiny?”

She twisted her right feet around a bit revealing the slended arch and smooth skin of it before wiggling her toes again and asking, “Maybe putting them into boots wouldn’t be a good idea… Whadda you think?”

She was oddly skilled at not letting my attention drift away from the subject at hand, so to speak, for more than a moment. No sooner had I reminded myself where I was and what I was doing had her shoes dropped to the floor and my focus been pulled back from the ice cream parlor and the girl’s dazzling smile and eyes to her feet once more. Even as she sang the kids’ song, in an oddly melodic and deliberate fashion, the playful movement and striking colour caught my eye.

“Huh?” I shook my head to try and bring my wandering mind back to earth before answering the odd question, “Uh, yes, very nice… very pretty.”

My brow knit slightly, it was an odd thing to ask but also an odd way I’d answered, but I did mean the answer.

My confusion was interrupted by her coquettish arching and twisting, posing and flirting of her feet. The whole situation was taking an unexpected turn. If I was into such things, I’d almost say the sweet,  ditzy girl was trying (and quite skillfully) to seduce me.

“I guess not if you’ve painted your toes…”

Cindy giggled a bit and then said, “Well…. Ya! But ya know something?” She looked around almost conspiratorially for a moment and then said in a faux whisper, “For some people feet and toes are the way to make them really happy… Have you ever had a really good massage? One that goes from the top of your head to the tips of your toes? Mmmmmmmmmmmm…. It can make you feel soooooo goood….”

As she said all of that, he would see a little shiver pass though her body as she closed her eyes in the middle of the story and imagined something wonderful… And if he was looking at her face at one particular moment, he would see that she bit her lip and stifled a little moan at whatever the memory was that she thought of…

Then she asked him, “I wish that I could have one of those massages… They’re always sooooo much fun…”

y eyes hovered and darted, her playful movements and breathy giggled whisperings turning the conversation subtly but swiftly intimate. I blushed a little at her newest observation of predilection.

“Um, yeah… some people are a little weird like that…” i muttered, trying to avoid dwelling on how much I had been and was still eyeing her feet.

Not that it was helping when I pulled them away to see her shiver and hold back a moan with a sexily bitten lip. Very few things are as attractive or arousing as a beautiful woman showing such felings, and Cindy was certainly all of the above. And all at the thought of a foot massage?

“Uh, well… I could try.. I mean, if you don’t mind me trying… if you want?”

Cindy giggled a little as she stretched out her feet and toes a bit, the polish on them glistening as she continued, “Oh would you mind very much?” He had come just close enough that she was able to take her toes and rub them along his pant legs just slightly. Then she asked almost innocently, “You know how this is done don’t you? Usually the massager has to get onto their knees… You know… Sort of kneel at the feet of the person they are…. mmmmmm… pleasing?”

Her head tilted to the right a bit as she continued with a slightly more commanding tone in her voice, “I always have found that starting with the right foot is nice… And I like being nice to people that are nice to me…”

The look in her eyes seemed to focus in on him a little more as she added, “And I want to be nice to you you know…”


And so it came to an end…


Jul 06 2009

Storm Clouds IX – An ongoing Succubi Story

More corrections this week as I didn’t have an ounce of time to add to the story this week….


Storm Clouds
By TeraS
Chapter 1

“How did she die?”

The question hung in the air over the people surrounding the cold steel table upon which a body laid covered in a white blanket. The medical examiner pushed his thick glasses up his nose with a latex-gloved finger before replying in a disinterested voice, “Looks like a mugging. Stabbed in the back eight times and then whatever she had on her was taken. She was found beside a car in the Summer Hill Mall parking lot.”

The man that had asked the question rubbed the day’s worth of stubble on his chin, “Eight times? Sounds like something more than a mugging Doc. No mugger than I know of would spend the time to stab his or her victim that many times. Too easy to be seen or get caught.”

Doc looked back at him before shrugging, “You want facts Tom. That’s all we have here. Nothing else to say about her. Eight wounds with a knife or similar object. No sign of other harm to her. Before you ask, no signs that she was raped either.” He turned away from the table and stripped off his gloves, “Just the usual senseless crime in the big city.”

After Doc left the room, Tom stared at the body for a while. It didn’t make sense. Why her? She was nobody. Nothing special. She probably had a family and he would have to see them next. That was the part he hated most of all. Having to walk up the lawn or path or whatever. Knocking on the door. The person opening it for a moment with hope in their eyes that their loved one would be there waiting. But instead they would see a middle-aged brown haired and brown eyed man in a rumpled suit flash a badge, ask to come in and then a little while later leave the home with wrecked lives in his wake.

He sighed and grabbed the clipboard that held her ID…

And came to an abrupt halt in his thoughts.

There was nothing there. No name. No address. No other ID. Nothing.

He was mulling over in his mind the procedures for filing a Jane Doe report, when a woman’s voice broke into the room from behind him, “We’ll look after her from here, thank you.”

Turning to look over his shoulder from his right he answered, “She’s a Jane Doe. My file. You have…”

He found himself looking at a woman about his height. She had short blonde hair in a bob cut, blue eyes. Slim of build. Cute in her own way, he supposed. She was holding a folded piece of paper in her hand, “Paperwork. I’m here to claim my Sister.” She handed him the paper as two burly men in dark suits entered the room behind her.

Tom didn’t bother to open the paper. There really was no point. They would not have managed to get into the room without having the paperwork to do so, nor would they be able to leave with the body if they didn’t. He watched her go over to the table, lift the top of the sheet from the body, then with a nod say to the men, “It’s her.”

They wasted little time then, within moments they had moved around both himself and the blond before taking hold of the table and rolling it out the door.

As she turned to follow the men pushing the table from the room, Tom called after her, “I’m… sorry for your family’s loss.”

She hesitated in mid-step before replying without looking at him, “Are you really? Or are you just parroting the words that your regulations say you should say officer?”

Tom found himself unable to bring himself to say to her that it wasn’t just words. That he hated his job. That he hated not being able to find the ones that did these things and bring them to justice. Instead he said to her, “Not all words are lies Ma’am.”

Her answer gave him pause, “No. No they are not. But neither are they all truths either.”

He watched her open the small blue purse she held. For a moment, she seemed to be considering her next actions carefully, as if she was about to reveal something that she was not sure she had the right to. A small white card appeared in her hand a moment later. She looked at it before placing it on the countertop to her right, “If you want to attend her services, they’ll be at that address. Tomorrow. Nine in the morning.”

With that she pushed through the door leaving Tom in the room alone with his thoughts, the buzz of the lights, and the card on the table…

And the question in his mind of whether or not he would or wouldn’t…

Tom picked up the card and stuffed it into his inside pocket of his jacket without looking at it. That decision could wait for the moment. Pushing through the door that led out of the room, he turned down the hallway and entered Doc’s office.

Doc’s office was not what you would expect from a medical practitioner. Every other doctor you would ever meet had their diplomas on one of the walls. Books neatly placed on bookcases. Files waiting for them on their desk. All of the stereotypical things you would expect. Doc was not the norm. Doc’s office consisted of a wall of filing cabinets on one side, his mass purchased steel desk opposite to that, and on the wall to your right a single photograph in a frame.

That photograph was of a young Doc with his arm around a cute red head with blue eyes. They looked happy together. Tom always wondered about that picture and what happened to make Doc the old crusty pain in the ass that he was today.

Doc was sitting behind the desk, a bottle of some cheap dime store beer to his right, his concentration on a file in front of him as he wrote something there in the chicken scratch that was common for doctors around the world to use.

Tom took the chair on the other side of the desk and then said, “It’s early for having a beer Doc.”

As he put his pen down and reached for the bottle the answer was, “Nightshift rules Tom. Whatever helps you make it through the shift.”

Tom frowned but didn’t push Doc on this. Doc was one of the few people that still tolerated him. Not quite a friend mind you, but at least Doc would listen. He said in return, “Our Jane Doe was claimed. She was rolled out of here a few minutes ago.”

Doc just about choked on his beer, “Claimed? I wasn’t told? Who released her?”

Tom blinked, “Err… I did. She had paperwork and…”

With a slam of the bottle on his desk Doc said, “Gimme the paperwork Tom.”

It took a moment to draw it from his suit before handing it over still folded up. Doc opened the paper and then shot him a look, “Did you look at this Tom?”

A shake of his head was the answer…

Doc tossed the paper at him as he reached for the phone on the desk, “Nice paper. No work.”

Tom blanched as he looked to see that the paper was… Empty. Blank. Nothing.

Just like Jane Doe herself.

It took a short time, but it became clear that whoever had claimed the body, had gotten out of the building unopposed and unseen. What was more frustrating was that parts of the surveillance cameras in the building would randomly turn off and then back on again leaving gaps in their coverage.

Doc pointed a finger at Tom, “You have any ideas?”

Tom didn’t hesitate, “Nothing. Didn’t give me a name or anything. I figured that a woman and her muscle wouldn’t get down here without clearance, so I didn’t think to challenge her.”

With a grunt, Doc turned back to the phone dismissing Tom…

Which was fine with him.

He stood up and walked from the office heading towards the elevators. After pressing the button for the main floor, Tom fished out the card she had left on the counter. He almost expected it to be as blank as the sheet of paper she had given him. Why didn’t he look at it? He should have. At the least he should have asked for her name or Jane Doe’s name. Something.

Finally the card was in his fingers and he considered the address printed there in a cold formal font…

S. Realm Enterprises, 69 69th Street. We make dreams.

The bell sounded as the elevator doors opened.

Tom had an appointment to keep in a few short hours and some answers to get from that woman over this…

Storm Clouds
By TeraS
Chapter 2

Tom didn’t go directly to the address on the card. No, that wouldn’t be proper if there was a funeral there–especially not at four in the morning. First he went back to the small unremarkable apartment that he called home. He had lived in the place for just over 12 years now.

Exiting the subway he crossed into the first rays of the sun pushing their way into the concrete jungle that was his city. A sort walk with the warmth of the sun on his back brought him to his small apartment. It was a simple basement apartment that he could slip in and out of at all hours and not bother the people that he knew were his neighbors but whom he had, in all truth, failed to get to know.

Moving down the twelve steps from the street to his door he fished out his keys and then rammed one of them into the lock. For a moment he dwelled on the past and why the place meant as much to him as it did.

That could be summed up with one word.


With a grunt to push the memories away, Tom opened the door to discover the small calico cat that was the last living thing in his life to connect him with her. She purred questioningly at him and he replied out of habit, “Yeah. I know. Look like crap and smell like it too, right?”

His answer was a flick of the cat’s tail and then it walked away no longer interested in him for the moment. Much like he was with the world today  for some reason that didn’t matter right then.

The floor creaked as he tossed off the clothes he’d worn that morning. Fishing around in his hall closet, he found his funeral suit, shoes and tie and changed into that.

It didn’t take long. Before leaving again, he tore open a tin of cat food, filled the old porcelain dish that was the cat’s and left some drinking water before leaving again, catching a cab and heading off to… Somewhere else again…

The cab came to a rough stop as Tom heard the cabbie grunt, “69 69th Street bub. Nine-fifteen plus the tip for the fare.”

Tom looked out of the window with some surprise. 69 69th Street was… odd.

This was one of the more fashionable, modern parts of town, with gleaming steel and glass buildings, corporate logos plastered all across them. The typical chain stores with their signs screaming at people to buy something within their doors…

But not 69 69th Street… No this place was, well, calm. Quiet. Unassuming. Among all of the rushing around, this building was a throwback to earlier times in the city, a brownstone four story building set back from the curb a short way. The windows gleaming in the sunlight made whatever was within invisible for the moment.

Tom paid the cabby and then started towards the wrought iron fence that marked the edge of the property. As he walked along the cobblestone path towards the front doors, the odd thought came to him that it was like following the yellow brick road. Amused, he wondered if that woman that he met in the morgue was named Dorothy or not. He noticed that, to either side of the path he walked, there were a series of park benches and trees for shade in the small space that had been carved out…

He then registered the fact that there were no people sitting on them or milling around. If there was a funeral to be held here or at least a remembrance of someone shouldn’t there be people here waiting to enter or at least trying to comfort each other? Or did he mishear the time of the gathering, being either too late or too early for it?

Either way he was here and time was ticking away…

Taking the four steps to the front door, he noticed the bronze nameplate of the company by the door and the little buzzer and speaker to call for assistance.

Which he pushed.

The speaker crackled and a somewhat distorted female voice asked, “Yes? Can we help you?”

Tom was going to start with the usual lines that all police gave, but then remembered the conversation he had with that woman and said, “I would… if it is possible, like to pay my respects to a sister that passed away…”

There was a short pause and then the voice replied, “One moment please and someone will let you in…”

It was a short wait of perhaps five minutes before the thick wood door was opened and, to his surprise, the blonde who gave him that blank note in the morgue stood there. She didn’t seem at all surprised to see him, although, for a moment, she brushed her hands to smooth out the black silk dress she wore before greeting him with, “Good morning. Please do come inside.”

Tom shot her a look, but accepted the invitation and stepped over the landing…

And just about lost his breakfast as he did. For a moment he thought that he was going to leave a wet chunky spot on the carpet, but then the feeling passed and he found himself looking at the blonde as she shut the door and locked it again.

He coughed and then was about to read her the riot act, arrest her and take her downtown when he realized that they weren’t alone…

And there was a funeral or wake or something going on.

The immediate area around him was filled with couples milling around talking in hushed tones. Several of them were looking in his direction and that of the blonde with looks that ranged from disinterest to bemusement to… desire?

The blonde gave a little cough to get his attention and added with a nod of her head, “Will you join me in the sitting room please?”

Tom was torn for a moment between hauling her away and getting more out of her, but finally decided that it all looked legit in his eyes. Making a scene at a funeral would not go over well, and he wasn’t sure but he thought that a few of the people in attendance were city officials… high up ones.

Very calmly, Tom replied to her in a low voice, “Lady. You have no idea just how much trouble you have created. Where’s your sister? I’m going to have to take her back to the morgue. She was attacked and there is an investigation going on. You can’t…”

The blonde shook her head and then with a nod, offered, “Please. Just come over here into the waiting room with me? We can discuss this there and I’ll try to answer your questions…”

Tom finally gave a grunt of agreement and then followed her away from the crowd deeper into the building.

She led Tom towards a white trimmed doorway in the wall that opened into a good-sized room. It was not your typical business waiting room with year old magazines and hard cold plastic chairs. No, this place was class. Cherry wood furniture, bookcases filled with what looked to be expensive writings, a large ornate rug in the middle of the room and a small fireplace in the wall that was unlit for the moment.

Taking a seat in what looked to be a Victorian high-backed chair, she waited a moment before asking, “Would you like a seat?”

Tom shook his head, “No thanks. Lady, you are in all sorts of trouble.”

Turning to him she said, “I’m sorry for misleading you, but there was little time and I didn’t have a choice in the matter.” She smiled a bit, “My name is Camilla Addison. I’m sorry that I didn’t introduce myself when we first met, but I wasn’t prepared for you to be there. Might I know your name as well?”

Tom offered in return, “Thomas Selleck.”

Camilla placed a hand over her lips and attempted to not giggle as she managed to get out, I’m sorry. It’s just that…”

Tom nodded and allowed a small grin, “Yeah, I know. My mother was in love with the television show, but my dad wouldn’t let her name me Magnum… It’s an ice breaker at parties, however, when I have a fake moustache on…”

She placed her elbow on the arm of the chair and then put her head against her hand, “I’m sure it would be Thomas.”

He turned serious again, “Miss Addison, you understand that you have broken several laws with what you have done and I will have to arrest you for them.”

She just smiled, “I don’t think there will be a problem.”

Tom was getting frustrated and it began to show, “A missing body, a theft, and you think there won’t be a problem? Why would that be, Ma’am?”

Camilla explained, “I am sure that whatever is needed to make that issue disappear is being looked after as we speak Thomas. My… group is not without it’s resources and connections within city government and the powers that be in your city.”

He paused to consider that and then said, “Group? Are you suggesting that you are part of the Mafia or something illegal?”

The oddest smile came with the words, “Not the Mafia, and nothing that your rules would see as illegal as such Thomas.”

He had the feeling he was being played with, much like when his cat would tease a mouse before killing it. The frustration grew as he answered, “We should continue this discussion downtown Ma’am.” Tom was not happy with the situation and found himself falling back on his training to try to take control of the situation– if he had ever been in control of it from the moment he had met Camilla.

She shook her head and replied, “I think that will not be where we need to go next Thomas.”

He gave her the obvious reply, “And just why would that be Ma’am?”

A new voice came into the room behind him, “Just because.”

Tom spun around and just about fell over from shock…

Standing there, in a red dress, was Jane Doe… very much alive and from the look in her eyes, not exactly happy with what was going on…

Storm Clouds
By TeraS
Chapter 3

It was her. One hundred percent Jane Doe, complete with mid-length curly red hair and green eyes. He found himself thinking that she looked better in the red than under that white sheet in the morgue. Tom’s next coherent words were, “What the hell is going on?”

Jane replied coldly, “That’s a good question isn’t it?”

Camilla shot her a look, “That’s enough. Show some manners when we have a guest here.”

The reply was a snort of derision.

Camilla tapped her right hand on the arm of her chair before she sighed, “Have a seat Thomas. She’s not who you think she is.”

He took the chair to her right still in shock. He was absolutely sure that this was Jane Doe. That he had seen her on the slab. Dead. But there she was angry and looking for trouble. With a sigh Tom ran his fingers over his chin as he attempted to gather his thoughts. In doing so he managed to reply, “Must be the end of the world. Dead people walking the streets.”

Camilla reached out a hand to touch his arm and explained, “Identical twins. We always had a problem telling the two of them apart. finally got to the point where we made them get tattoos…” A short nod in Jane’s direction, “Mind you, her sister was not as frustrating to deal with.”

The glare in Jane’s eyes made it clear that she didn’t like Camilla. Nor, Tom thought, that she thought much about him either.

Tom couldn’t believe that she was right. This was the Jane Doe in the morgue. The face, the hair; It was her all right he was sure. Identical twins? Weird things did happen, but this was just out of the ballpark. Still he found himself asking her, “So what’s your name, then? Can’t be Jane, can it?”

For an instant, she seemed to be considering her answer very carefully. The look in her eyes of barely contained anger didn’t change for the seemingly endless moment before she came to a decision. Uncrossing her arms, she put them behind her back and then shifted her hips a bit before answering, “You can call me that if you like.”

Tom wasn’t sure at first if she was playing him or not. When someone was being evasive they looked guilty, nervous, unsettled. Jane looked as if she was ready to snap someone in half if they weren’t careful what they said or did.

But somehow calling her Jane felt right. Whether or not it was her real name was another question. He figured that he could et something out of Camilla or that, when he took the two of them downtown, there would be some real answers given. Still, he couldn’t do that right this minute, and so he glanced at Camilla, “Are you all this helpful when it comes to answers?”

Camilla chucked, “Ask a direct question and you’ll likely get a direct answer Thomas…”

He pondered that as he looked at Jane standing there, unconcerned with him, the police, it seemed, or anything else.

Save the anger within her that was almost like a black cloud hovering over the room.

Seeing that she wasn’t leaving, he took that to mean that she would answer more questions from him. Tom decided that it was in his interest to get some basic information out of her, so he sorted out the questions he wanted answers to, picking out the ones that were quick and meaningful. Then he said, “Jane it is, then. What’s your sister’s name? The one who was lying in the morgue and Camilla and the goons took out last night?”

Jane didn’t flinch as she answered, “Patricia.” And not another useful word came from her after that to ant of his questions. But it was obvious that there was a great deal of hurt in her eyes, hurt that was feeding her anger. Tom found himself deciding that as odd as the story was so far, there didn’t seem to be a lie in it he could touch. It was also obvious that Jane was hiding something from him that he would need to figure out.

Rubbing his chin Tom mumbled to himself, “Magnanimous women will be the death of me I’m sure.”

Jane smirked and offered, “You never know what the future brings.  Patricia didn’t.”

Tom managed to bite back what he wanted to say, which was that she should get off her high horse and try to be less of a bitch and more of a human being. He found himself looking at Camilla and thinking, “I wonder how she’s related to her?”

Camilla saw him look at her and began to explain, “Jane… has been out of the country for a while. She came back early this morning after we sent word a few days ago that Patricia had gone missing. She arrived shortly before you did Thomas, and…”

Jane finished the sentence, “I was told she was dead. A wonderful way to return to family isn’t it?”

Tom couldn’t argue that point either.

Camilla told Jane firmly, “The detective is here to look into what happened.”

Jane actually rolled her eyes before giving him a dismissive wave with her right hand, “So you are here to investigate why she was killed then? Or are you here just to make waves in our lives?”

Tom gave her a hard look as he answered, “You want tidal waves lady? Just setting aside what happened to your sister, what you people did in the morgue is a no-no. She was taken from the morgue improperly. There is an investigation going on about that. It’s not my problem but I’m here because I am involved in it. Now, your sister is my case, and maybe I can figure out what happened and why and find the one that did this. That’s why I’m here. I have to start somewhere and…”

He looked at Camilla, “…You were good enough to leave me the clue to this place at least.”

Jane gave a little snort of derision, “Police. Useless beyond words.”

He managed not to growl out the words, “Lady, I don’t know where you were and I don’t give a damn either. This isn’t some two bit country in the middle of nowhere. Patricia is my case to solve, and I’m going to. I’m not going to let this just slide by into the unsolved case files, and you know why?”

Jane just watched him in silence until he answered with a smirk, “I have my reasons.”

Camilla chuckled at his words before saying as she clapped her hands softly, “Touché…”

Tom was about to start asking some pointed questions of them both when there was a soft cough from the hallway. Standing there patiently was a man of the cloth. He looked like the sort of man that you’d like to have as your uncle: a kind face; eyes that held the glimmer of mirth and joy he carried with him; the stature of years of listening, understanding, seeing and helping; a life filled with the joy of doing good work wherever he was needed to be.

He carried a small, old book that Tom took to be a Bible in his left hand — a hand well weathered with time and doing the work of his life. But it was also clear that his hands were the source of comfort as well as guidance where it was needed. He didn’t command the room with his size. No; that, it seemed, was not his way. It was more his easy smile and welcoming stance but, most of all it was just the calm understanding that surrounded him.

He smiled pleasantly to them all before saying, “We’re going to be starting the service in a few moments. Would you care to join us?”

To Tom’s surprise, both women replied in soft voices with deference to him, “Of course. We’ll be right along.”

He nodded at the reply and then said to Tom, “You are welcome to join us as well, mister…?”

Tom stood up and then offered his hand, “Selleck. Thomas Selleck.”

The twinkle in the pastor’s eyes became a little more mischievous as he accepted the hand and gave it a firm shake, “You need a mustache.”

Tom chuckled, “Thanks for the tip. I’ll get right on growing one in the morning.”

The minister laughed in return, “Excellent. We need something to smile over. Patricia would be mad as all get out if there wasn’t some joy here today.”

Then. with a pat of Tom’s shoulder and a wink, he disappeared down the hallway. Tom watched him leave before he commented to the two women in the room, “Seems like a good man.”

Camilla had stood up and offered, “The best. Come on. He’ll be disappointed if the whole family isn’t there.”

Jane turned away with a last scowl at Tom before vanishing into the hallway. He looked at Camilla and said, “Well, I suppose she’s on my not friends list.”

She slipped her arm around his and said, “Well, maybe I can be on your friends list instead?”

He replied to that with, “Tell me the truth after this. Explain to me what the hell is going on and you go to the top of the page Camilla.”

She seemed to be thinking about that for a long time as she stood beside him. Then mysteriously she said, “The truth just is Thomas. You just need to be able to see it for what it is.”

As they left the room, Tom found himself wondering what kind of service it would be…

Storm Clouds
By TeraS
Chapter 4

They followed the crowd towards the rear of the building. As Camilla led the way, Tom attempted to fit what he had so far into some kind of explanation of what was going on.

That wasn’t turning out to be simple.

What he had so far was a dead body that was going to be out of his reach soon. A woman who took that body illegally and didn’t seem to be concerned about the problem with the law she now had. A sister of the deceased who was an identical twin. One who he hoped wasn’t going to take the law into her own hands.

Tom sighed and mumbled under his breath, “A beautiful day in the neighborhood.”

Camilla answered, “Yes it is.”

As Tom turned to explain, they passed through a white marble archway and into what seemed to be a courtyard behind the building. The first thing Tom noticed was that there were trees. lots and lots of trees. Looking up, he found that, with the exception of a small open space in the middle that showed the blue sky above, there was no view up, out, or around the place. It was as if the buildings surrounding the brownstone had vanished and been replaced by trees. He expected to hear the sounds of the city coming through the greenery, but, instead, all he caught was the occasional low conversation from people here and there as they milled around, and the sound of wind in the tree branches making them rattle in the air.

Camilla replied with that odd smile she had, “It usually is.”

Looking around, Tom saw that there were a series of chairs placed from the back of the brownstone towards the middle of the space. Tom figured something like fifty or sixty people could fit in the space comfortably. Then he saw it. A casket made of cherry oak, past the rows of chairs ahead. Camilla maneuvered Tom along the side to the line of mourners giving their respects. As the two of them came closer to the casket, Tom was surprised by what was there.

A grey calico cat curled up beside the casket on a small chair. He looked at it for a moment, noting that some of the people would stop by the cat, offer a few quiet words, and then move off to find a place to sit. He was about to ask why the cat was there when it was their turn to pause.

Tom watched as Camilla twined her fingers together and bowed her head before beginning to whisper to the casket. He didn’t catch all of what she said. Just the occasional words… “Hope… someday…. remember… missing you already… be fine.”

Tom simply looked at the casket and closed his eyes after a moment. He didn’t speak the words but just thought to himself, “Rest well Patricia. Not giving up.” Then they moved away in the next moment. But Tom stopped to give the cat a gentle scratch behind its right ear and received in return a low purr. Tom recognized it as the same purr his cat made when it was content. It raised up its head and then looked at him with a pair of odd blue eyes before it’s tongue darted out and licked the palm of his hand once.

Camilla said with some surprise, “I’ve never seen her do that with anyone but Patricia… Usually she’s a lot meaner.”

Tom answered as he drew his hand away, “Just good with cats I guess.”

A young man serving as an usher came over and guided them towards the last row of the chairs and then indicated where they should sit. After getting settled, Tom asked Camilla, “How big is the family anyway?”

She replied again with that smile, “We’re all here.”

Then Tom saw Jane pausing at the casket for a moment. When Jane went over to the cat, there was a low hiss and Jane glared at the cat before walking away to take her seat. Tom leaned over and whispered to Camilla, “I see what you mean about the cat.”

Somewhere around them all, a chime sounded. Then another. And Another. To Tom’s ear it wasn’t quite wind chimes, but something very old and meaningful which seemed to catch everyone’s attention making the conversations come to an end and the attention of all turn to where the casket lay.  As the chimes ended, the mourners rose, Camilla nudging Tom to his feet with her elbow.

Then the minister walked down the center aisle accompanied by a woman with long wild raven colored hair that reached most of the way down her back. She was wearing a flattering black dress and a wide brimmed black hat that covered most of her face from Tom’s view. But he was able to pick out the woman’s red lips and slightly tanned skin. It was obvious that everyone but he knew who this was from the nods and whispered words of sympathy.

“Odder and Odder”, Tom thought as he watched the scene. He wasn’t sure who this woman was, but there was no doubt that she was important. Patricia’s Mother? She seemed too young. More questions and mysteries to pick at…

With some help from the minister, the woman found her place in the front row, and after a word with her and a nod, he left her there and took his place beside the casket and the cat.

Placing one hand upon the casket he began to speak…

((Yes I know this is a bad place to stop, but I have to work on the next part more than I have))

Jul 05 2009

Another Demoness Manip YouTube

Elsewhere in the Tale is a transformation video by this same artist of Beyonce…


And in case the embedding doesn’t work…


He has a finished version of this image at his Deviantart site here.

All in all it is a really useful tutorials and I hope to put those lessons to good use on a Succubi manip in the near future….


Jul 04 2009

So where is Tera on a sunny Saturday?

That would be telling wouldn’t it?

Oddly I wanted to put this on my cellphone last night…

The Queen of the Succubi is out of the Realm for the weekend… Please leave your message after the moan…

But it prolly would have gotten a lil too X-rated…


Anywhoo, I am prolly in a place where I haven’t got access to the net… Yes children such places do exist believe it or not…

I might be back in time tomorrow to post again, but you never know…

And all of this?

This was created by a team of AngelKitties running across the keyboard….